FRAMED, page 9
Tori didn’t give Jo a chance to protest. “Come on!” she said, grabbing Jo’s hand and tugging her toward the growing crowd on the dance floor.
The instructor, a wiry man with a sun-weathered face, clapped his hands. “We’ll start with something easy: the Electric Slide! Y’all know this one.”
Jo shot Tori a skeptical look, but got only an encouraging grin in return. “It’s easy,” Tori promised as “Electric Boogie” blasted overhead.
Tori was right. Halfway through the song, Jo moved in sync with everyone else, even managing a little hip swing that earned her an approving wink from Tori. Jo forgot about Green Eyes or any lingering awkwardness. This was fun.
The next dance was trickier—something called “Step That Step”—and Jo had to concentrate hard not to trip over herself. But she learned it well enough to stomp along in rhythm by their third run-through with music.
She caught Tori adding little flourishes to her steps—a spin here, an extra kick there that Jo marveled at. When did Tori get so good at this? The thought distracted her long enough to misstep and bump into a man beside her. She muttered an apology and refocused on her feet until the song ended.
As they left the floor, George Strait’s “Fireman” started up, and Tori turned to her with an eager grin. “Dance with me.”
Jo hesitated, scanning the room full of beer-swilling men in snap shirts and women with big, teased hair and tight jeans. “Uh, are you sure? In a straight bar?”
Tori laughed lightly and took Jo’s hand. “Relax! Women dance together here all the time.”
Still unsure but unwilling to disappoint her, Jo let herself be led back onto the floor. She naturally assumed the lead, placing one hand on Tori’s waist and taking her hand with the other just as a man in a cowboy hat sauntered over, grinning widely.
“Hey there,” he said, pushing his hat back, his leer revealing yellow teeth under a handlebar mustache.
Jo tightened her grip on Tori’s hand and squared her shoulders. Oh no, you don’t.
But Tori let go and stepped back.
The man’s voice grated through the music. “Ah—a few of us fellas over yonder was talkin’. We was wondering if that lady doctor who robbed a bank last week was you.”
Jo’s spine snapped straight, and her pulse quickened, but she kept her face neutral, letting Tori handle it.
“No, it was not,” Tori replied, her tone sharp. Her glare could have melted steel.
But the man wasn’t deterred. He squinted at Tori and continued. “The TV said her name was Victoria, and the picture sure looked like you. Are you a doctor?”
Tori’s jaw tightened. “You’re mistaken. I’ve never robbed a bank,” she said, each word clipped and deliberate.
Jo didn’t wait for more. She grabbed Tori’s hand and pushed past him, wrinkling her nose at his sweaty-man smell.
That was when she saw him, the bald guy from the gym and the BBQ restaurant, leaning against a lodgepole near the bar. Half hidden in shadows, a cigarette dangled from his lips, he stared at her, unblinking and cold.
Jo’s chest tightened with a jolt of fear. How long had he been there?
She yanked Tori’s arm harder than she meant to and veered sharply toward the opposite side of the room.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said under her breath, her voice low but urgent.
“Wait, Jo,” Tori protested, stumbling to keep up. “That cowboy was just a jerk.”
“It’s not him,” Jo hissed, scanning the room for exits as her heart hammered. Her eyes darted back to the lodgepole. The bald man had disappeared. Uh-oh.
“Is there a back door?”
“Uh—yeah, to the left, just before the restrooms.” Tori seemed rattled now.
No surprise, given the way I’m acting.
But she didn’t slow, carefully steering Tori across the crowded floor, weaving between dancers under the dim lights. Her grip on Tori’s arm was protective but unyielding.
“Jo, what’s going on?” Tori asked, her voice rising.
“I’ll tell you in the car,” Jo said tightly as they neared the door. Her senses were on high alert. Every sound was sharper, every shadow deeper. She didn’t dare look back again. “Let’s just go.”
Chapter 17
Tori barely had time to process Jo’s urgency before being shoved out the back door and into her Volvo. Jo slid behind the wheel without a word, her movements sharp and deliberate, as they tore out of the parking lot. The tires squealed as they hit the pavement, and Tori clutched the armrest, her pulse racing.
“Jo, please tell me what’s going on,” she demanded, her voice tight. Jo’s eyes were fixed on the road, her jaw set. The silence grated on Tori’s nerves, feeding a rising irritation. She hadn’t even had a chance to talk to Jude again before Jo had whisked her away. And she missed her, despite the tangled knot of feelings she harbored for Jo.
Jo’s hands gripped the wheel as she made random turns, her eyes darting to the rearview mirror. “I just want to make sure we’re not being followed.”
“Followed? By whom?” Tori’s stomach tightened. “Who has you so spooked?”
Jo’s voice was low and grim. “That big bald guy you pointed out at the restaurant. He was watching us at the bar. I think he followed us there.”
Tori stiffened, unease sparking full-blown alarm. “I knew there was something off about him.”
Jo nodded, her knuckles white on the wheel. “I didn’t say anything earlier because you already have enough on your mind, but I saw him at the gym as well. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence. Guys stare at you all the time.”
“And at you, too,” Tori shot back.
Jo ignored the quip, her voice sharpening. “It can’t be a coincidence. Not three places in the last couple of days. He’s definitely following us. And he wants us to know it—like he’s trying to intimidate us.” She slowed to a stop as they approached a red light and turned to Tori. “Do you have any idea why someone might be stalking you? Or us?”
Tori swallowed hard, her thoughts spinning. Is he connected to World Petrol? Have they discovered what Jude and I are up to? The thought sent a chill down her spine. She debated how much to tell Jo. “Could it be the FBI?” she asked instead, stalling while she thought.
“No.” The light turned green, and Jo stomped the gas pedal. “The FBI doesn’t tail people out on bail for bank robbery unless they think you’re about to bolt. Or, you’re involved in something larger.”
Tori heard the unspoken question. She sat rigidly in her seat, weighing her words. Her secrets felt like stones pressing down on her ribcage, heavy and suffocating. But this wasn’t how she’d planned to tell Jo. And with that man hanging around The Lodge, she had to warn Jude.
“Take me back,” she said abruptly.
“Back where?”
“Back to The Lodge.”
“What?” Jo shot her an incredulous look before pulling over and killing the engine. “That’s insane. I just got you out. Why?”
“I left my ID, my driver’s license,” Tori lied smoothly, though guilt twisted in her gut. “If that guy finds them, he’ll discover where I live.”
Jo rolled her eyes. “Where exactly did you leave it? Are you sure? Why don’t we call the bar and have someone check?”
“No,” Tori said, shaking her head. “We’d only get their answering machine this late.” She was gripped by a sense of urgency and raised her voice. “We need to go back now.”
Jo stared at her for a long moment, suspicion flickering across her face. Tori knew what she was thinking. What aren’t you telling me?
Finally, Jo sighed and lifted her hands in surrender. “Fine.” She started the car again and made a sharp U-turn back toward the bar.
The moment they pulled into the parking lot, Tori unbuckled her seatbelt and flung open the door. “Stay here with the engine running. I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder as she darted toward the entrance.
She didn’t wait for Jo’s response; every second seemed an eternity before she could reach Jude. The Lodge pulsed with energy, the bass thundering through the floorboards as boots stomped in rhythm. Tori pushed through the crowd, her gaze darting over heads and cowboy hats until she spotted Jude at their usual table, sitting alone. Relief flickered briefly, but her eyes continued to scan, searching for the hulking, bald figure. No sign of him. She exhaled sharply and made a beeline for Jude.
Jude’s face lit up when she saw her. “You’re back,” she said, standing to greet her. “I couldn’t resist hugging you earlier. Sorry if that was too much. But . . . what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Tori’s jaw tightened as she glanced around the bar again. She kept her voice down. “Someone’s following me. Big guy. Bald. Built like a linebacker.” She leaned closer. “Be careful, Jude. Listen for unusual clicks on your phone. Lie low—no contact for a while. Please wait for me to call you. I shouldn’t have come here tonight. I can’t let you get dragged into my mess.”
Jude’s smile had vanished, and her brow furrowed. She gripped Tori’s shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Tori, are you in danger? What’s going on?”
Tori’s nerves were frayed. “I don’t know. Maybe I am,” she said, keeping her voice low. “But I can’t risk involving you.”
Jude didn’t let go, didn’t look away. Her voice softened but stayed resolute. “You don’t get to decide for me. I’m already involved. With you.”
Tori’s stomach dropped, and for a moment, she faltered under Jude’s touch and steady gaze. But there was no time for this—not now, not with everything crumbling around her, and some thug watching her. She broke free from Jude’s grip, eyes scanning the bar for the bald guy.
“Stay alert,” she said firmly, her tone now all business. “Go about your normal routine at work. Don’t do anything out of the ordinary. I’ll call you when I find out if the grand jury decides to indict me.”
“What. . . “
But Tori didn’t wait for her to finish. “I have to go.”
She turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd. The pounding music faded as she slipped out the back door into the cool night air. Her eyes swept the parking lot—no sign of the stalker—but that didn’t mean he wasn’t lurking in the shadows. She climbed into the Volvo with a sharp breath.
“Did you find your driver’s license?” Jo asked.
“No,” Tori muttered, staring out the window, as if searching for an evasive answer in the darkness outside. “I might’ve left it at home.” She glanced at Jo. The excuse sounded weak even to her own ears. Jo did not look convinced.
“Did you see him?” Jo asked after a beat.
“No.”
Jo pulled out of the lot without saying another word, but their silence grew heavier with every mile they put between themselves and The Lodge. Finally, Jo slowed and pulled over as a loud truck roared past on the narrow road.
“Okay.” Her tone cut through the tension like a blade. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Tori slumped in her seat. Jo deserves to hear at least part of the truth.
“I’m working on something,” Tori said, avoiding Jo’s eyes. “Information that could blow your case wide open.”
Jo’s head snapped back, her eyes widening. “What? What kind of information? From someone at The Lodge?”
Tori placed a hand on Jo’s arm. “Yes. But I can’t tell you who or what yet,” she said softly. “Just trust me on this—and don’t bring it up on the phone.”
Jo wasn’t having it. Suspicion darkened her expression as she pressed further. “Who are you getting this information from? And how are you getting it?”
Tori stiffened at Jo’s tone—an attorney’s interrogation—and fought back the urge to spill everything. But no matter how much she wanted to confide in Jo, doing so could reduce the value of her discovery.
“That’s the problem,” Tori said, choosing each word carefully. “If I tell you everything now, you won’t be able to use it in court.”
Tori watched doubt flicker over Jo’s face.
“It’s illegal?” Jo’s tone was sharp.
Tori didn’t answer.
Jo leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Are you in danger?”
Tori let out a bitter laugh. “The FBI already arrested me for bank robbery and some goon is stalking me,” she said dryly, meeting Jo’s gaze with tired defiance. “How much worse can it get?”
Chapter 18
Friday morning, June 28th, Tori jolted awake, her breath catching in her throat and her heart hammering a steady drumbeat. The remnants of her dream clung to her, slippery and fleeting, but the heat of it lingered, a tangle of sensations she couldn’t shake. Erotic flashes teased the edges of her memory, then vanished altogether. She threw off the covers and padded to the bathroom, her bare feet chilled by the floor. At the sink, she splashed cold water on her face, the shock grounding her. Reality settled in as she dabbed her cheeks dry with a towel.
The grand jury may have decided my fate.
Tori’s premonition was prescient. Brian called them into his office just before noon.
The receptionist ushered them into the conference room, where they sat in tense silence. Jo appeared calm, but Tori’s clammy hand probably gave her away. She gripped Jo’s hand like a lifeline.
Mercifully, Brian did not keep them waiting. He strode in and sat next to Tori rather than at the head of the table.
Tori’s gut told her what was coming.
Brian held her gaze as he spoke. “I wish I had better news, Tori. Based on the bank surveillance tape, the photos, and the three sworn eyewitness statements from bank employees, the grand jury decided there was sufficient evidence to indict you for armed bank robbery.”
His words hit like a physical blow. Tori gasped and covered her face as if to block out the reality crashing down around her. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out all other sounds.
This can’t be happening.
She couldn’t speak as tears welled up, blurring the room. Jo put her arm around her, and Tori let out a muffled sob as she slumped against her shoulder.
Brian gave them a moment.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “But if all they have is eyewitness testimony and no motive or physical evidence, we’ll have a good chance of arguing mistaken identity at trial.”
Tori raised her tear-streaked face. “At trial? What about my work? My practice? The Texas Medical Board could suspend my license. How do I get through the next few months? Face my staff? My patients? The university? And my cancer study—what happens to that?”
Jo squeezed Tori’s shoulder. “Don’t jump ahead. Let’s take this one step at a time.”
Brian held her gaze. She saw concern and kindness in his dark eyes.
“Listen to me. We’ll fight this. Come to my office tomorrow morning. The next step will be the arraignment, where the charges are read, and you will be asked to plead. Soon after, we will also find out who the judge will be and the trial date. I will work on getting a certified copy of the bank surveillance tape, hopefully this afternoon. Don’t let yourself spiral into worst-case scenarios tonight.”
He glanced at Jo meaningfully. “You’ll stay with her?”
“Of course,” Jo said, rubbing Tori’s back in slow, circular motions.
Brian was halfway out of his chair when he turned to Jo. “How long are you in town?”
Jo hesitated. “I’m supposed to leave soon.” Her eyes darted to Tori, who was blowing her nose quietly beside her. “But I’ll stay with Tori at least through tomorrow.”
Brian gave them a nod and a tight smile.
“Take good care tonight, both of you,” he said over his shoulder as he headed out.
Jo turned to Tori. “Let’s go,” she said, linking arms with her as they rose, steering her toward the hallway. “We’ll stop for lunch.”
Tori moved mechanically beside her and murmured weakly, “I’m not hungry.”
“I am. But we’ll go home,” Jo said. “I’ll fix you something small, just enough to keep your strength up, and we can watch your Monty Python video.”
Tori blinked, a flicker of confusion breaking through her daze. “Monty Python?”
“You know,” Jo said brightly, apparently trying to inject some levity into the moment. “The Life of Brian.” Especially that scene where condemned prisoners hang on crosses with dead bodies in the pit below, singing “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life”. She whistled a few bars for effect.
A ghost of a smile tugged at Tori’s lips. “You’re daft,” she muttered under her breath.
Jo grinned and squeezed Tori’s arm as they walked out of the law office into the bright sunlight.
*
When Jo lay in bed that night, her body felt heavy with exhaustion, but her mind refused to relent. She tossed and turned, the sheets tangling around her legs. All day, she’d fought to keep Tori’s spirits afloat, throwing out lifelines of reassurance and distraction, but the results were dismal. She hadn’t had a moment to untangle her own thoughts. What should have been a straightforward case of mistaken identity had mutated into a nightmare, threatening not just Tori’s freedom but the integrity of their firm’s lawsuit.
Eyewitness testimony was notoriously unreliable; every lawyer worth their salt knew that. Memories were fragile, easily warped by stress, media coverage, or casual conversations with other witnesses. And photo lineups? If the agents conducting them knew who they wanted witnesses to identify, bias was baked into the process.
Jo groaned and rolled onto her side, squinting at the glowing numbers on the clock: 2:00 a.m. The night stretched ahead of her like an endless void. She fought with the sheets to try to get comfortable.
Brian had better pull together an air-tight defense because this whole affair reeked from Day One. Tori’s arrest hadn’t made sense, and Jo’s frustration was hardening into steely determination. Come hell or high water, she’d uncover the truth.
